Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Mazzy raises her drink. “I’ll do it. Slow claps are my specialty.”
“Don’t encourage him,” I say with a laugh.
North latches right on to the teasing. “Yeah, Abrams’s ego is big enough already.”
“Oh, like yours isn’t,” Rafferty fires back. “Who was it again who mimed a bow after his goal tonight?”
“That was different,” North says, smirking. “That was flair.”
“Flair, my ass,” Atlas chimes in, tipping his beer toward North. “You’re just lucky we didn’t have a wager on who’d score the game-winner. Foster and I would be rolling in it.”
Foster nods solemnly, though his lips twitch with amusement. “I told you we should’ve bet on it.”
“You guys bet on everything,” Willa says, rolling her eyes.
“Not everything,” Atlas protests, looking faux offended before his eyes land on me, the smirk inside evident. “We didn’t bet on… oh wait, yeah, we totally did.”
“What?” I ask, intrigued.
Atlas grins. “We had a running bet on whether you and North would last this long. I personally thought you’d kick his ass to the curb a long time ago.”
Everyone laughs but heat rushes to my cheeks as I glance up at North, whose expression shifts from amused to sheepish.
“You bet on us?” I ask, my attention back on Atlas.
“We absolutely did,” Foster confirms, his grin downright wicked, and my attention cuts to him. “I had my money on two weeks, so I’m guessing my boy had more charm than I thought.”
Again, more laughter.
Everyone laughing at the absurdity of me and North being together. Well, because I’m the absurd one with commitment issues.
“Two weeks,” I murmur, starting to feel a little dizzy.
I’ve heard that type of laughter before. Seen the mocking expressions.
“Rookie mistake,” King cuts in, sipping his whiskey. “It was obvious North was going to be extra charming to make sure Raff didn’t kill him.”
The table erupts in guffaws, Rafferty included.
“I hate you all,” North mutters, though there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He leans closer to me, his voice dropping low enough that only I can hear. “For the record, my charm is authentic and not exaggerated.”
Somewhere, deep inside me, I understand that this is just friendly teasing. I can see through the haze of bitter memories that North has no clue that I’m spiraling.
I want to get out of here but before I can move a muscle, Mazzy pipes up, “Wait, wait. Who won the bet?”
Atlas groans. “King did. The rest of us underestimated how determined North would be to get Farren to like him.”
Determined.
Like putting forth all this effort to win me over, for some ulterior motive? To win a bet? To give his buddies a laugh?
Is that right?
“Now wait a minute,” North says. “How much money are we talking about? Maybe I could have dragged it out a little further.”
Flash. Bright light, so blinding it sears into my brain. A cacophony of laughter, jeers, the sound of my name shouted like a punch line. My stomach dropping into a bottomless pit as I clutch at my dress, at my shame.
North pulls me into his side, gives me an affectionate squeeze. My entire body recoils against the action and I pull free from his embrace.
North’s gaze comes to mine and I don’t know what he sees, but his laugh dies on the spot. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” I rasp out, acknowledging the hurt that’s been dredged up from my past to intertwine with the hurt that’s being caused right now, and I can’t distinguish between the two.
Flash. My feet pounding against the gym floor as I run, the noise chasing me, the walls tilting and spinning as if the whole world is mocking me. The ache so sharp, it feels like I might shatter.
“I have to get out of here,” I say, grabbing my purse from the table and my coat off the back of a stool.
The table goes silent for a beat, the surrounding sounds muted as the spotlight is on me.
Flash, flash, flash.
North reaches for me but I jerk back, shaking my head. Shock flickers in his eyes, his jaw tightening. “What’s going on?”
I take a moment to hold on to the hurt, but it’s ebbing away. All my years of wisdom since that fateful day long ago have taught me about the true nature of men. I open up and let the anger fill me. “I guess I didn’t find it quite so funny that people bet on my life.”
“Your life?” North asks in confusion. “It was just a joke. It was—”
“Not fucking funny,” I yell at him.
I look at the table, seeing the shock on everyone’s faces and then their awkward glances at one another.
Atlas clears his throat, looking genuinely contrite. “We didn’t mean any harm. It was just a dumb joke, you know?”
I stare at him mutely, the tightness in my chest gripping harder. The laughter and camaraderie so comforting moments ago now feel like a spotlight, too bright and too focused on me, and now I’m embarrassed.